


Where the Whip Strikes

by Songstress21 (Cantatrice18)



Category: The King and I - Rodgers and Hammerstein
Genre: Gen, Multiple Endings, Rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 21:06:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2482427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Songstress21
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Faced with the prospect of dishonor, the King must punish the betrayal of his young wife while simultaneously dealing with the ever-willful Anna Leonowens. </p><p> </p><p>Three other outcomes of the climactic final conflict in The King and I.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sacrifice

“I am King! And I am strong, strong I say!”

Long black whip clutched in his hand, the King raised his arm above his head and brought it down with one swift, powerful stroke. As the leather soared towards its target a flash of movement caught his eye. Quicker than he would have believed possible, Anna had thrown herself on top of Tuptim, pale skin and grey silk masking the terrified girl beneath. There was nothing he could do to stop the whip’s path and he gazed in horror at the long, fraying tear that opened along Anna’s bodice, at the angry red line that appeared across her exposed back. He dropped the whip at once, an odd ringing in his ears, and ran from the room. His feet led him instinctively towards his living quarters, but his mind was separate from his body, still replaying the cry of pain he’d hoped never to hear.


	2. Barbarian

“I will not run. I will stand here and watch you do this.”

He could not stop, not even for her. His adviser, the guards, even the presence of the weeping woman on the floor assured him that justice must be done. He could not lose face in front of them, allow himself to be cuckolded and shamed by a lesser wife. Anna’s defiance made it all the worse – any leniency now would be a sign of weakness. As blow after blow struck he made himself concentrate on the task at hand, willed himself to ignore the weight of Anna’s gaze upon him. When he finished, he steeled himself and looked over at her. The elegant Englishwoman stared back at him, eyes cold with disdain. The warmth and affection he’d felt from her just minutes earlier was gone, replaced by utter contempt. He knew, without a doubt, that what they’d once had between them was over. From now on he was nothing more than a barbarian to her, a petty tyrant. Unable to bear her presence any longer, he strode out of the room without another word.


	3. Accident

“Stop this, I tell you!”

Even as he raised the whip, he could see that Anna would not give in, and the knowledge made him angrier than ever. Why did this woman have to be so troublesome? Did she not understand that a King could discipline his subjects as he pleased? And Tuptim, with her secret lover - did she expect him to let such dishonor go unpunished? He gritted his teeth and his grip on the whip tightened. He would not give in to the admonishments of a schoolteacher, not this time. As the guards pinned Tuptim to the floor Anna ran towards him, trying to block the young woman from view, but the King would have none of it. He lashed out at her, meaning to thrust her aside, but the gold-capped handle of the whip connected hard with her skull and she dropped to the floor, motionless. A surge of panic overwhelmed him as he knelt, grasping her limp hand in his. The guards looked up in confusion, his adviser stared warily from him to the unmoving Anna, and Tuptim’s soft crying filled the tense room. “Out, get out!” he cried, gesturing with the hand that still held the whip, and all rushed to obey. Within moments there was no one in the vast hall but him and the unconscious woman before him. 

He dropped the offending whip, kicking it aside, and gathered Anna into his arms. She was breathing slowly, but regularly, something that reassured him greatly. As his hand closed about her slim waist, memories of their dance together came unbidden to his mind. He remembered the way her breath came in short gasps, the way her lips parted as she looked into his eyes. As he pulled her nearer to him his eyes fell upon her bare shoulders. Strange, how such an ordinary thing could seem so tantalizing on a woman who spent most of her time wrapped up in layers of fabric. He never could understand English clothing; what was the point in hiding a woman’s beauty, of trapping her in cage-like undergarments? He stroked Anna’s cheek with a finger, wondering (not for the first time) what she would look like dressed as his wives dressed, in oriental silks and bare feet. His hand moved to caress her head, where the whip had struck her, and he felt some of his anxiety return. If only she hadn’t been so foolish…but no. It was he who had played the fool. He’d known how she abhorred the idea of a man owning many wives, he’d seen how she’d bristled when he’d mentioned a woman’s proper place serving her master. If he hadn’t been so outraged by the idea of Tuptim’s lover, if he hadn’t already been so worked up from dancing with Anna, he might have acted reasonably, or at least have been wise enough to send Anna away before punishing his wife. 

He closed his eyes, praying to Buddha that this unworthy woman be saved, that she awaken unharmed in mind or body. He promised to be wiser in the future, to consider before acting. It wasn’t until he felt Anna move that he opened his eyes again. She began to stir, her arms reaching towards an invisible something or someone. He pulled her up until she was seated on his lap, facing away from him. Her head rested against his shoulder and he could smell the sweet scent of her hair, as well as that particular perfume he associated with her alone. Her eyelids fluttered and she awoke, staring in confusion at the empty room before her. When she saw who held her, she gasped and pulled away from him. 

“Ah. You are awake,” he said brusquely.

Anna did not answer at once, but looked around the room again. “Where are they?” she asked, voice shaking slightly. “What have you done to her?”

The King shook his head. “Nothing. I leave that for later. But I punish her as I see fit.”

“Your Majesty, please—“ Anna began, but the king shook his head.

“No more. I have decided. She shall be out of favor, and will not be allowed in the temple or throne room when I or my better wives are present. She shall no longer be graced with presence of King.”

“But you will not hurt her, your Majesty?” Anna insisted. “You will not beat her?”

The King shrugged, trying to appear casual. “It does not please me at this time. Come now.” He stood and offered Anna his hand, helping her to her feet. When she stumbled, he wrapped a firm hand about her waist, releasing her when he was sure she was steady. “Come,” he repeated, leading her towards the stairs.

“Where are we going, your Majesty?” Anna asked, struggling to keep up with him.

He smiled as he turned to look at her flushed face. “To library. I have many questions I wish to ask you about the laws of western countries. Come, come, come!”


End file.
